LadyWilde

Every so often I get lucky, and I order a scent that ends up smelling exactly the way I think it should. O, joyful day. Embalming Fluid reminds me of a Lemon Tea scent The Body Shop used to carry (does carry?) but without the astringent, tannic note that always bugged me. The lemon is bright but not too sharp, perfect with the delicate freshness of the green tea. I don't think I've ever smelled an aloe scent before, but that must be the juicy, green note that I'm picking up on. I used to be afraid of musk of all types--particularly white musk, which always made me think of drugstore perfume--but the white musk in Embalming Fluid smoothes and grounds the blend perfectly. I love this, and I'll probably get a big bottle for Spring. This is a very light and gentle scent that only lasts a few hours on me, but I don't mind reapplying.

Anise, anise, anise, an itty-bitty bit of cherry blossom, and zero sandalwood. Not bad, certainly interesting, but not what I want to smell like. Why is it that my skin always gobbles up sandalwood? Short of wearing pure sandalwood oil (which I occasionally do, diluted in a carrier oil, of course), I cannot seem to convince my skin that I want to smell like sandalwood. I like sandalwood. I think Kyoto would have smelled a million times better on me if it had a more prominent sandalwood note to ground the anise and cherry blossom.

Floral vinegar. No sandalwood, a little neroli, and something that I wouldn't have identified as ylang ylang if I hadn't known that's what it was. Blech. After several hours, it dries to a soft and rather pretty floral, but's it's certainly not worth smelling like vinegar for hours just to get to that phase.

I am so confused about this scent. Wet, it's sharp and herbal. As it dries, it sweetens and I think I smell amber, lightly, in the backround. Then, it goes a bit powdery with a strange vegetal note. A few hours later, it goes through a brief period where it smells like decaying flowers over damp, freshly upturned earth. Right now, hours later, Ra has settled into a soft, lightly sweet floral/powder/resin scent, and has completely lost any traces of herbs/dirt/vegetables. I think I rather like it.

Definitely Pele. Pele's ginger isn't ginger-y in the hot/spicy/gingerroot sense; it's "Hawaiian white ginger," which is different, although I couldn't tell you how, specifically. Anyway, it's beautiful and light and fresh and feminine and perfect for warm weather. Also, La Bella Donna Della Mia Mente, my current favorite in the light floral category. The description says it contains "wild rose," and I know you already specifically vetoed that, but the scent is so complex and well-balanced that the rose doesn't dominate (I have issues with rose, too, and it makes me happy when I find a scent with rose in it that I can wear). Amsterdam is lovely, too. . .a light, watery floral.

My guy is completely unimpressed by "sexy" scents like Snake Oil and Loviatar and "foody" scents like Gingerbread Poppet and Chimera. He is, however, a big fan of O, which falls into both categories. Weird. I'm going to agree with anyone who's mentioned girly/feminine/floral scents. I was wearing La Bella Donna Della Mia Mente the other day, and he complimented me on it. He also really likes Henri Bendel's Rare Mimosa EDT (a light, sweet, airy, ultrafeminine floral and my favorite non-bpal scent). I'm thinking of tracking down a bottle of Snow White, as that seems to be many people's idea of the ultimate in light, innocent, girly/sexiness.

When I smelled this in the imp, my first thought was that it would be incredibly sexy on a guy. Tart orange blossom, leather, and warm amber. Oh, yum. My second thought was "Oh how I hope this smells good on me." Amber is my favorite note of all time, I'm a fan of neroli/orange blossom, and I have recently discovered the sexy joys of leather (thanks to Loviatar). Alas, it was not to be. Wet, it was all sharp neroli. After it dried, it smelled like something I knew but couldn't place. A little soapy, a bit spicy, slightly masculine in a generic kind of way. Finally it hit me: Head and Shoulders shampoo. It smelled exactly like it. Not a bad smell, per se, but I certainly don't want to walk around reeking of it (yeah, pretty good throw with this stuff, by the by). Despite my less-than-wonderful experience, I am dying to try Les Infortunes on my guy. I've only tried one bpal on him (Wilde), but what was unremarkable on me was no less than unbelievably gorgeous on him. It's worth a try. LATER THAT EVENING. . . My guy stopped by tonight after work, and while we were on the couch watching television I remembered that I wanted to try Les Infortunes on him and blurted out, "Hey, can I try out more smelly things on you?" He didn't even look at me funny; he just said, "Sure." I just adore him; he never questions my little weirdnesses. Anyway, I ran into the bedroom and got the imp, swiped a little on his wrist, and sniffed him. Mmm. Orange blossom and leather and oakmoss (hardly any amber). After a few minutes, it smelled like. . .Head and Shoulders shampoo. Oh well.

At first, cinnamon buttercream. Yum. Then, spicy cinnamon beautifully balanced by sweet honey. Also lovely. A couple hours later, cinnamon Play-Doh. Not so pretty. Booo. I will be trying this again, as the first couple hours were so lovely, and I am hoping that the Play-Doh was just a temporary chemistry malfunction.

I haven't reviewed this yet? Seriously? In the imp, I immediately recognized the juicy, sweet-tart scent of pomegranate. Once it touched my skin, the pomegranate disappeared immediately, and for a moment I was certain that "melancholy autumn breezes" were going to go the way of the Lab's "ozone" note and turn to detergent and pesticide. However, after it dried down for a bit, the pomegranate came back, and brought with it the rose, peach, and a clean, fresh aquatic note. I can't identify myrtle or melilot by scent, but I looked both of them up on the web, and apparently melilot has a hay/vanilla fragrance. I don't smell any vanilla, but I'm guessing it's the melilot that I'm interpreting as subtly grassy and "breezy." This is such a pretty, well-blended, well-balanced scent. Tart pomegranate and sweet peach, flowery rose and dry melilot, and a combination of clean water and air notes. Nothing overpowers or stands out, everything just melds together beautifully. Definitely a keeper, and possibly a future big bottle purchase.

I worship Oscar Wilde. When I was in London a couple years ago, I took myself on an Oscar Wilde Tour of the City. I went on an Oscar Wilde guided walking tour. I visited the Theatre Museum near Covent Garden looking for Oscar Wilde artifacts. I combed the National Portrait Gallery looking for portraits and photographs of Oscar Wilde. I hung around in posh wine bars in the early evening before the theatre or the ballet drinking Merlot and reading The Soul of Man. So yeah, anyway, of course I had to try Wilde. I thought that maybe my chemistry's tendency to make everything I wear smell supersweet might actually work for instead of against me in this case. Unfortunately, no. Wilde smelled very high-class, very elegant, and very, very masculine. Earlier today, though, I convinced my guy to try it. Wow. Oddly enough, Wilde smelled less masculine on him than it did on me. What smelled rather old-fashioned and traditional on me smelled lighter, fresher, and slightly sweeter on him. It was fresh, clean, citrus-y/herbal with a rich, warm base of tonka and sweet subtle jasmine. So smooth, sexy, classy, and sophisticated; I spent the afternoon with my nose buried against his neck. Subtle jasmine. Jasmine as a supporting player? Jasmine that isn't taking over the whole show, or else (as she did when I wore Wilde) hiding away somewhere and sulking because she's not the center off attention? This is a concept that was, before today, entirely unknown to me. Amazing. I envy my guy's chemistry. I think I'll give him the imp, and possibly even get him a bottle.

Oooh, Whitechapel! I love that one. Fresh-and-light-but-not. There's something very subtly sinister about it. . .or maybe that's just me buying into the name. Either way, it makes me feel very proper and slightly dangerous. Good one. You guys are awesome. More more more!!!

Another generous frimp from the Lab. . .thanks! All Jasmine, all the time, imp to drydown and beyond. Unlike, say, Venice, which also went all jasmine-y, Rapture never turned to soap. Not bad, really, and the second jasmine scent I've tried in the past couple of days (Ave Maria Gratia Plena being the other one) that I can actually wear without feeling like I'm knocking myself or others over the head with overwhelming jasmine-ness. This is a soft, sweetly floral, romantic jasmine. I don't need a bottle, but I'll hang on to the imp for the days when I feel extra-girly. I think the imp will last me a while.

fruitypatchouliholycrapyucknofreakinway. . .but I tried it anyway Weird. Like most others, I smell grape and patchouli. After a bit, the nag champa comes through quite strongly, but oddly enough I'm not getting that heavy smokey/incens-y feel that everyone else seems to get. Between the grape and the nag champa, it's very sweet. The patchouli lurks, dark and earthy, in the background. My skin tends to amp sweet scents, but it also tends to unleash the Giant Scary Patchouli Monster of Death, so I am interested to see what this scent is going to do. A few hours later, this hasn't changed much. It's still grape-nag champa-patchouli, in that order. It's not unpleasant, but it's also not me. I am very glad I tried it, since it is the first scent with patchouli in it that I've been able to wear without smelling like a mouldering unwashed hippie-corpse. (Whoa. Graphic. )

In the imp, all I could smell was lemon. On my skin, the jasmine immediately jumped out and took over (surprise!). However, it wasn't the loud, obnoxious, I'm-just-hear-to-give-you-a-headache-then-turn-to-soap jasmine. Instead it was anchored and reigned in by the sandalwood and rosewood. . .a soft, understated jasmine atop a subtle, woody base. The white musk lends its smoothness and the sage and lemon keep it clean and fresh-smelling. This is a jasmine that recognizes and utilizes the talents of her supporting players. Well done, jasmine. After a few hours, it fades to a very soft, subtle, barely-there no-name floral, but I'm okay with that. It's a fair trade for a jasmine scent I can actually wear.

Sharp neroli, then the mimosa creeps in, then a touch of clove, then. . .soap. Booo.